


Epic, and So Cool.

by rocknrollalien



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollalien/pseuds/rocknrollalien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a 30 day writer's challenge concerning SPG. I did all of them in about two days. Here are the choicest picks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Delilah

Rabbit was in love. More than he ever had been before. The girl was not a toaster, or a blender, and she didn’t even plug into anything. She was a real live human girl with a heart and elbows and a soul and she probably had a belly button but he wasn’t sure he’d seen it before or be able to recognise one if he came across it. And he loved her as much as she loved him, which he hoped was a lot because boy did he love her a lot!

She would clean him up when his oil went everywhere, laugh at his jokes, and ooh and aah appropriately at his drawings. Which is why he drew her a rabbit. Since he was her Bunny, and always would be. And she loved puns, which was just the sour cream on the tortilla for Rabbit.

So when he walked into her room in Walter Manor (of course she had a room in Walter Manor who wouldn’t want to live there?? They even had a door put in for her because she’s special and Rabbit loves her) and found her crying softly on the bed, there were no words with which to express his distress.

He bounced across the bed to her, and encircled her in his arms.

“Paige? What’s wrong?” he asked, squeezing her tight. He knew that when he was upset, being held tight made him feel a heck of a lot better, so he hoped that theory worked on human females as well.

She squeezed his arm and gave him a slightly damp smile. “It’s stupid,” she said, giving a small, sad laugh.

“Nothing’s stu-stu-stupid,” he told her confidently.

“I am. Well, I am sometimes. Just…I got to thinking,” she began, wiping the tears out of her eyes and looking into his green and blue. “You’re basically immortal.”

“And that…made you cry?” he asked, his eyebrows (or what passed for them) coming together in confusion.

“And I’m not.”

The idea slowly dawned on him. He’d never loved a human woman before, and this had never been an obstacle with a toaster, or even that clingy microwave. Eventually, Paige would die, and it wasn’t very likely that he’d follow her into the dark. Or follow her anyplace, after she was dead. The idea of her becoming a stone with a name on it (which was Rabbit’s idea of what happened to people when they died for good) made him very sad.

At his silence, Paige felt the need to continue: “I’m afraid that when I get old and saggy and weak you won’t love me anymore.”

At this, Rabbit snapped out of it and squeezed her tight, almost relieved. “Oh no, that would never happen!” he said brightly.

She raised an eyebrow. “But how do you know that for sure?”

He smiled knowingly. “Because you’re a Delilah.”

She clearly didn’t understand.

He took a deep breath, and held his love’s hands. “Pappy built us so that Delilah would love him. We were made because of love, and to love so we could know our purpose. Later we f-f-fought, but that wasn’t the point. When we were made, the only thing Pappy would talk about was Deeeeelilah—the perfect woman. The picture of grace, kindness, and buh-beauty. You’re my Delilah, Paige. I wouldn’t settle for-for-for less.”

She cleared the tears from her eyes, and hugged Rabbit tight. In his ear, she murmured, “Promise?”

“Forever, Paige. You’re my Delilah.”


	2. Babybot AU

The Spine was a very fussy baby.

It was impossible for the Walters to find clothes that fit the tiny silver robot that wouldn’t make him indignant and pouty. If anything so much resembled the Tella Tubbies or Elmo, this particular toddler would screw up his face and refuse to open his eyes, speak, or eat until the offending article of clothing was removed. Luckily, he had enough pride to not simply strip and run around in his so-called “Birthday Suit,” as his golden brother would occasionally do.

As a result, the silver toddler was in a black snap-up shirt that was several sizes too large, a crimson tie that trailed along the ground should the child attempt to walk, and a fedora that slipped over his glowing green eyes given the slightest prompt from gravity. The shirt functioned as a full outfit for the little robot, which was a relief to the humans, who had not been looking forward to finding dignified baby pants.

And the clothes were just the beginning. Trying to get him to eat was a whole new nightmare.

They tried simply giving him oil, water, and electricity, like they could with Rabbit. They even tried soda pop like The Jon. He would take in the necessary ingredients, but continue to cry and complain about being hungry until someone sat down and spoon fed him highly refined diesel. He technically didn’t need it, but no one could actually convince him of this. Additionally, he refused to eat the spoonfuls of diesel until someone pretended that the spoon was 1. A steamboat 2. A train 3. An airplane captained by Lily Airheart herself. 

The main problem that the humans of Walter Manor had with him, though, was the fact that he had a problem with every bed time story ever read to him. And it was almost always the same problem.

“Not enough giwaffes,” he would explain, crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip.

“Not enough what?” One caretaker would ask.

“Giraffes. He’s a baby, cut him some slack,” the other would reply.

“Giwaffes are an impowtant element in evewy stowy,” The Spine continued. His vocabulary would have astounded the caretakers, had they not heard the same argument every night, consecutively, for almost a year now.

One of the Walters finally thought up an apparently genius way of appeasing the baby robot on the matter of giraffes.

It was a fine Spring day, and the three babybots were playing in the park near Walter Manor. Rabbit was feeding ducks, The Jon was talking to himself under a bench, seemingly content with playing with leaves, and The Spine was pouting. Because The Spine was always pouting.

But that day, was the day that the humans all saw The Spine’s face light up like they’d never seen before. An awkward, gangly, baby giraffe stumbled into the park, being observed by a highly paid zoo official from afar.

The Spine toddled over to it, for once not complaining that his tie was dragging and demanding that someone carry him. He stretched out his arms, and made grabby hands at the creature, who was looking at its reflection in the shiny metal of The Spine’s face. It bent down, having its nose level with The Spine, only to have a small silver toddler clasp onto its face, squeezing it into a strange hug.

The giraffe got awkwardly onto its knees, and proceeded to lie down next to the tiny metal person. The Spine clamored up on its back, and hugged tightly around its neck, chanting, “A weal life giwaffe!” over and over again to himself. Rabbit and The Jon crawled and toddled over as well, but neither of them were as completely awe-struck as The Spine.

“Is this my giwaffe?” The Spine asked as an adult approached, smiling indulgently.

“For today, it is!” the human replied.

“I’ll wemember today fo’ evah, then,” The Spine said, hugging the giraffe.

So he did remember the day he had a giraffe. And so did everyone else.


	3. The Spine x A Cat (OTP)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every * is an indication to scroll to the bottom and look at the corresponding annotation, for those who've never read a Terry Pratchett novel.

The Jon didn’t eat cats. Well, not really. He tried, once, and they just kindof disappeared. No chewing or digesting involved. Something to do with the time space continuum and the koi in his belly. However, after the first attempt, The Jon had found that one cat was missing from his sack.*

The Spine encountered the cat—a slim white cat with emerald eyes to match The Spine’s—some time later, that day. He regarded the cat as it perched atop one of the many grand master pianos that resided in the manor, and the cat met his gaze. The Spine raised an eyebrow, and the cat yawned.** The Spine sat down at the piano, and held out his gloved hand for the cat to sniff.

“I’m The Spine,” The Spine said.***

The cat did not reply, since it was a cat.

The Spine ran his index finger down a row of keys, creating enough noise to perk up the cat’s ears. The Spine smiled at the cat, recognising a kindred soul perhaps, and started to play a little melody. Nothing complicated, though.**** The cat settled itself closer to the edge where it could see The Spine, and began to purr. The Spine continued to play with one hand, and used the index finger of his currently unoccupied hand to caress the cat underneath its chin. He was startled at the vibration he could feel, and he smiled.

He pet the cat as he played, and observed it carefully. It had black fur close around its eyes, which made the shade of its eyes even more startling. Privately, The Spine began to call the cat Emerald, for its eyes. He liked the cat quite a lot.

The cat jumped off of the piano, startling The Spine into ceasing his musical shenanigans. The cat climbed into The Spine’s lap, and gave him a very irate glance at the lack of music. The Spine began to play again, and the cat curled up on his lap, purring contently.

The Jon clomped loudly into the room, stumbling into a cello***** and knocking it over, calling out, “KITTY! COME HERE KITTY!”

The Spine, quickly realising The Jon’s intentions based on the massive amount of fur clinging to The Jon’s shirt and bow tie, grabbed the cat and stuffed it down the front of his shirt.

“Have you seen a cat, The Spine?” The Jon asked, helping himself up.

“Nope, I sure haven’t, The Jon,” The Spine said, trying to stifle the squirming of the cat.

“Are you meowing?” The Jon asked, stepping closer.

“Nope, Jon. Why don’t you go off and play with Michael now?” The Spine attempted to send his brother away, steam escaping his ears in large quantities as he became more and more afraid that The Jon would attempt to eat Emerald.

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea, The Spine!” The Jon said, prancing off after tripping over the felled cello and getting back up again.

The Spine released Emerald from his shirt. Emerald proceeded to hiss and look rather bothered for a full ten minutes, perched atop the piano, before The Spine began to play another song and the cat forgot its qualms with the robot.

*A sack is the only way in which one may purchase cats in bulk.  
**Cats have no times for your robot shenanigans  
***The Spine did not have much experience with animals, so I suppose you mustn’t blame him for trying to talk to a cat.   
****After all, he was playing for a cat.  
*****That had been unwisely placed directly in front of the passageway into the room.


	4. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you know how Batman is everyone's favourite Disney princess?

The robots had been preparing for months. The Jon’s bedroom had exploded nearly three times during the course of October alone, and Rabbit actually seemed to be able to remember the date for once. The Spine, though, had been quietly preparing since August, and his time had come to shine. Halloween was his time to outdo his brothers and sisters in every respect.

Rabbit waltzed downstairs with a navy blue blanket tied around his neck, and two pieces of triangular cardboard that were fiercely scribbled on with black crayon were haphazardly taped to his hat. He was grumbling to himself in a deep voice, and when anybody tried to speak with him, he screamed “JUSTICE!” in their face.

The Jon slid down the banister with dark crayon scribbled all over his face, and a black belt with many loosely sewn pockets and compartments added on. His suspenders had additions as well, and he had arranged the feathers in his hat to look like long pointy ears that were reaching skyward on either side of his hat. When approached, he would ask if anyone had seen “Robin,” though sometimes he would make a mistake and ask if anyone had seen “Bluebird,” because despite his intense love for little birdies, he wasn’t an expert on ornithology.

Malfunction came next, her long blue hair tied up and put under a hood. She was wearing a long black coat, the hood of which sported two triangular ears, and a black mask to cover her face. She had black gloves and black boots on, and even a pair of black trousers, despite the fact that no one had seen her outside of a dress since she discovered how pretty dresses were in 1902. She leapt from shadow to shadow, murmuring, “I am the night.”

It appeared that every technological piece of equiptment in Walter Manor had dressed as Batman for Halloween. Even Jenny the toaster and Qwerty were sporting little black ears and a deep grumbly voice. They all got together (though The Spine was curiously absent) and demanded that Sam judge who was the best Batman. The decision was hard to make, and Sam made the participants of the contest go through many hoops. The first of which being a dance contest, which Jenny and Qwerty obviously failed. The next was a race, and when Rabbit’s left leg fell off, it was down to The Jon and Malfunction.

It was only then that Sam actually evaluated the costumes.

“Jon, you don’t even have a cape,” Sam said.

“Batman doesn’t always have a cape!” The Jon protested.

“Well even if that were true, you don’t have ears!”

The Jon pointed at his feathers. “Those are pretty earlike to me, Sam!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “But Malfunction’s got real ears and a hood and a cape and even the proper gloves!”

“Does she have a utility belt?” The Jon demanded.

“No, but—”

“Does she have utility SUSPENDERS?!”

“That’s completely beside the point!” Malfunction argued.

“Anyway, how can she be Batman is she’s a girl?” The Jon finished, putting his hands on his hips in a gesture of defiance.

“Well how do you know that Batman isn’t a girl in the first place?” Malfunction returned. “She wears a mask, so how can you tell?”

“Because girls wear girl things!” The Jon argued back at her.

As he spoke, The Spine made his appearance. He swept down the stairs with elegance and glory, showing off his pretty, pale blue gown, and done up hair. His cheeks were rouged and his lips were painted a colour other than black, and his shoes appeared to be made of glass. He batted his eyelashes at The Jon, whose jaw had fallen open at some point, and stepped delicately into the room where the competition was taking place.

“I’m Cinderella!” The Spine announced in his deep, remarkable bass voice of his.

“I thought I understood life before this day,” The Jon uttered.

“No you didn’t, Jon. Let’s go trick-or-treating!” The Spine said.

The three Batmans and Cinderella walked arm-in-arm down the avenue in front of Walter Manor, Sam and Michael walking behind as supervision. Everyone agreed, for years to come, that The Spine was indeed their favourite Disney Princess.


	5. Michael's Date

Michael was stoked. He brushed his hair, ditched the dorky sunglasses, and put on real pants. Even the tank top got set on the bed in favourite of a clean lavender button up. He grinned at himself in the mirror, feeling prepared. He, Michael Philip Reed, was going on a date.

“Whatcha doing?” The Jon asked, poking his head into the room.

“Getting ready for my date!” Michael said, pushing him gently so he could leave the room. “Please don’t stalk me!” he said cheerfully.

“Like I would ever do THAT,” The Jon muttered under his breath. Really, that had been a one time thing. Or a seven or eight time thing. It didn’t matter, The Jon didn’t like math anyway.

Michael met The Girl at a classy Japanese restaurant, and appeared to be the perfect gentleman. This was going to be the perfect date, and this girl would stay with Michael and make thousands of babbies with him. There were going to be NO zombie bear attacks (May 17th 2009), no haunted banjos (October 6th 2011), no getting kidnapped by ninjas (December 30th 2004), and definitely not a repeat of last year’s Sprinkle Fiasco (August 12th, 2011). This was going to be a good date, without any adventure at all! Except for, perhaps, the adventure of falling in love.

He pulled out a chair for her, and had her sit across from him. He smiled at her from across the table, and she returned the smile. She was charming, and she liked hot sauce. Oh, he did hope this went well.

Across the restaurant, a golden man with a ginger mustache (most likely made from the clippings from a certain drummer’s mustache), and obnoxiously large glasses was staring over his menu at a certain couple. His eyes glowed blue, but this was San Diego and the servers were really quite used to such things by now.

The Girl asked, “So what do you do for a living?”

Michael hesitated, and eventually replied, “Well I’m a part time mechanic and a part time musician. I also…um, babysit a lot…”

“That’s awfully interesting!” The Girl said, batting her eyelashes.

As she spoke, Dreadful Diva Demons seeped in through the windows behind her. Michael paled, and made to stand up and banish the Dreadful Diva Demons by insulting their singing and calling them a ‘Stupid Hoe,’ but before he could ruin his date, The Jon came winging in on a ceiling fan, and landed in between the Dreadful Diva Demons and The Girl.

The Girl had failed to notice, but Michael watched avidly as The Jon shot plasma rays from bananas he’d kept in his pocket (The Jon always brought bananas to a party, and Michael supposed that Steve must’ve gotten his hands on them at some point), and called them Ninnies and Philanderers. Old fashioned, but effective! Michael watched with baited breath as the Dreadful Diva Demons screeched at them about their carreers and how their lives were hard too, and it was all he could do to not lunge across the table and point out that temporary chart success didn’t equal long lasting fame!

“Are you alright?” The Girl asked, looking mildly concerned.

The Jon defeated the last of the Dreadful Diva Demons and slumped victoriously back to his seat.

“I’m just fine, now!” Michael said, smiling at his date. “Shall we order?”


	6. Brianna

The Spine caught her out of the corner of his eye. Just a normal girl, to most people. But something twisted inside his blue-matter core, and his voice did a few skips that they didn’t generally do. She was beautiful, of course, and The Spine had no idea who she was. She didn’t stop to watch them perform, she didn’t even look his way, but he desperately wanted to talk to her in a way which meant he would never ever talk to her for fear of destroying everything and being a total dupe.

Yet, the next day, she walked past again. He got this strange little hope that maybe she wanted to see him too, and he’d just missed her looking at him. After all, who didn’t look at him who passed through the park? He was over six feet tall, in a striking suit, and also happened to be silver. His confidence boosted him to the point of making the horrible mistake of telling his brothers about it when the set was over.

“Why doncha just talk to her?” Rabbit asked, raising what passed for an eyebrow. “Ladies love ya.”

“No, they don’t, Rabbit. They like the act,” The Spine tried to explain, dragging a gloved hand across his face and sighing.

“Well then act!” The Jon said merrily.

“But girls want the real deal!” The Spine protested.

The Spine’s brothers let this pass, not bothering to understand humans, because humans were boring (except for Michael, Sam, and Steve of course) and they really didn’t care that much.

The third day that The Spine spotted her, his stutter became so pronounced that Rabbit smacked him on the back so hard that his fedora flew off. The girl giggled, and paused in front of the act, a small smile forming. If The Spine had blood, the odds were that he’d be blushing. Instead, steam escaped from his ears as he awkwardly bent to retrieve his hat. The Jon saw this as an opportunity to push The Spine into the girl of his dreams, and gave him a jolly shove.

The Spine went careening into a girl, yes. But the wrong girl. He stammered out an apology, before turning to The Jon and declaring triumphantly, “That isn’t even the girl I like! That’s the girl I like!” he said, pointing to the pretty girl.

Realising his error, he blanched and tried to take back his words, butchering his statements massively while the girl giggled.

She stepped forward. “You like me, hm?” she asked, smiling.

“Well, yes I do. You have um beautiful eyeballs…” She raised her eyebrows. “And your hair folicles are flawless!” She looked confused. “Not to mention your pores!” She laughed a little nervously. The Spine was excellent at digging, it seemed, and the hole he was making for himself got deeper by the word.

“Thank you, I’m a rather big fan of your…eyebrows,” she said, and grinned.

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. She smiled up at him, and he made eye-contact with her, which made him nervous enough that he bathed her face in steam, making her make up run and her hair frizz up. She laughed, evidently unoffended.

“And this,” he said, touching a tiny red birth mark on her neck. “This is positively lovely,” he told her. The mark was miniscule enough that she was startled; most of her close friends hadn’t noticed that in the years she’d known them.

“How did you even notice that?” she asked.

“He l-l-l-looks at you a lot,” Rabbit butted in.

“Every day!” The Jon elaborated.

“Well…” The Spine said, backing away nervously. He extended his hands defensively.

The girl grabbed his hands, and smiled at him. “My name’s Brianna. Wanna get lunch?”

“I…I don’t eat,” The Spine said nervously.

“And I’m not hungry,” she said. She let go of one hand and used the other to pull him closer to her. “Let’s go.”


	7. Wild Wild West

Nerf Guns: Purchased and holstered.  
Cowboy hats: Well, Jon has one.  
Holsters: Semi-imaginary, but functional.  
Whiskey: Actually water, but functional  
Mustaches: Loosely attached.

“Are we ready?” The Jon bounced up and down, his fake mustache falling out of place.

“Yep!” Steve said, checking the last thing off of the list.

“We’re going on a horse adventure!” Michael said.

“Cowboy ad-ad-venture,” Rabbit corrected, hopping on Steve’s back.

Steve grunted, and led the group into the ghost-town near San Dimas. Walter had rented the little town for the bots’ build day, and they planned to completely destroy it with nerf bullets and banana peels. Steve and Sam weren’t 100% positive on why they were required to go, and everyone assumed that Michael would have gone whether or not anyone wanted him to.

They arrived, and scattered into the town. Sam set up camp in one of the dilapitated parlour, stacking old bags of flower near the bar as a barrier and distraction, and settling behind it. He knew that one of the others would want to prance through and peg him out of the game, and sure enough, The Spine came in soon after the set up had been completed.

The metal man paused in the doorway, his green eyes glowing through the dust. He hadn’t spotted Sam yet. He cast about, eyes narrow, until he spotted the innocuous fedora. He pulled out a shooter and BLAM hit a bag of flour. White powder went flying through the air, making it impossible for The Spine to aim another shot.

Sam set his sights for the robot’s hat, and the second the dust cleared, WHAMMO the hat was on the ground with a nerf bullet nestled in the fabric. The Spine turned, shooter ready, but Sam had already ducked behind the bar. As The Spine approached, Sam sacrificed a bullet and released another storm of white blindness upon his companion. He smiled to himself.

As The Spine stumbled through the parlour, Sam was able to roll quietly into a back room without The Spine noticing. The Spine launched himself over the bar, ready to blow Sam into smithereens, but encountered no one. He rubbed the back of his neck in confusion, and before he knew it CLING he was pegged in the back.

Sam stepped behind the silver man and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re dead, cowboy,” he said solemnly.

“I see that, Sam,” The Spine replied.

As the day went on, the parlour became littered in flour and the “corpses” of Sam’s enemies. At around 5 PM, fifteen minutes before they were to vacate the premises, The Jon stepped in, weilding two bananas and a huge pink cowboy hat. His mustahce had gotten lost at some point during the day, but he didn’t really seem to notice. He looked like he was all business. Sam honestly couldn’t fathom how no one had pegged him out already.

Sam stepped out into plain sight. He didn’t know how else to counter the banana attack. He wasn’t going to get shot. All he had to do was peg the littlest cowboy in the chest, and his mustache of authority would take care of the rest. Yet, he hesitated.

The Jon leveled his bananas at Sam, narrow eyed and serious. Well, as serious as The Jon ever really got. Sam steadied his rifle at The Jon, still confused. The Jon squeezed on the bananas and BLAMMO two bananas hit Sam—one on his mustache, the other on the chest—and The Jon was left holding two banana peels, dancing in victory.

“He just shot me with a banana,” Sam said, unbelieving.

“He just shot you with two bananas,” Steve corrected, sitting on the bar and grinning.

“Is that even fair?” Sam asked, blinking.

“They seem about as valid as little foam projectiles, don’t you think?” Rabbit asked.

“You’re dead, cowboy,” The Spine said, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder.


	8. Genderbend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written as a script, to make it a bit more challenging to write. For reference: Bunnyrabbit= Rabbit, The Jane=The Jon, and The Hips=The Spine

[Three young lady-bots are standing, instruments in hand, in a parklike or town square setting. A small audience is standing before them, seperated from the performers by a tollbox open to collect donations]

Bunnyrabbit: Why, it’s a group of audience members!  
The Hips: A veritable flock, Bunnyrabbit.  
Bunnyrabbit: I don’t think they’re c-called a flock, The Hips  
The Jane: A waffle-iron of audience members!  
Bunnyrabbit: That made no sense at all, Jane.  
The Jane: Well, neither do you! Why don’t you wear your goggles on your eyes?  
Bunnyrabbit [Looking huffy]: I can’t talk about that right now.  
The Hips [strums guitar]: What do we do with them now?  
The Jane: Do we feed them? If we do, can they share?  
Bunnyrabbit: We don’t FEED them, stupid, we sing for them!  
The Hips: I think this would be a good time for us to introduce ourselves! Bunnyrabbit, you go first!  
Bunnyrabbit and The Jane: Hi, I’m—  
Bunnyrabbit: I thought I was going first  
The Jane: I thought you already did  
Bunnyrabbit: No, I’m going to now though!  
The Jane: Why don’t you? You’re holding up the whole act!  
Bunnyrabbit and The Jane: Hi I’m—  
[Bunnyrabbit looks threateningly at The Jane, The Jane bursts into loud sobs. The Hips consoles The Jane with pats on the back, and beckons Bunnyrabbit to go on.]  
Bunnyrabbit: Hi, I’m Bunnyrabbit, and I’m the t-talented one!  
The Hips: I am The Hips, and I was built with a titanium alloy pelvis!  
The Jane: They’re going to save the best one for last! That is, they are saving the best for last. That is, did they already? In any tense, I’m The Jane and I’m the one that does all the cool tricks!  
Bunnyrabbit: No, The Jane, you can’t say that! I already said I was the talented one!  
The Jane: Well I didn’t say I was GOOD at all the cool tricks!  
Bunnyrabbit: What can you even do, The Jane?  
The Jane: Well. [dances awkwardly]  
The Hips: At any rate, we are She Powered Giraffe, apparently.  
Bunnyrabbit: The singing m-musical automatons!  
The Jane: Hooray!   
[music]

The Hips: Ladies, I think it’s time we take a trip through time!  
[The Jane and Bunnyrabbit appear extremely excited]  
Bunnyrabbit: Can we go see dinosaurs?  
The Jane: If we’re seeing dinosaurs, we’ve gotta pick up cowboy hats you know. And we should probably go forward and get some jet packs too and oh god what colour will the jet backs be, do we need three separate styles to them? Hips why did you not warn us?  
The Hips: Well—  
Bunnyrabbit: And if we’re getting cowboy hats, then we need badges. Sheriff The Jane, yours can say!  
The Hips: Rather, I meant—  
The Jane: Uh-huh! And you can be Doc Laborday, and we can, we can, um…  
Bunnyrabbit [pretending to be a cowboy]: Eat tumbleweeds for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!  
The Jane: And we won’t take no sass from any Tyrannosaurus Rex’s, neither! With our jetpacks we can probably even make sure the pterodactyls don’t get snippy either! After all, you’re the Doc and I’m the Sheriff [jetpacking around]  
[Bunnyrabbit looks amazed]  
The Hips: Girls, girls, what I meant was more of a metaphorical time travel, utilising the power of music!  
[The Jane powers down jetpack]  
Bunnyrabbit: That’s much less interesting  
The Jane: Much less  
The Hips: We’re going to the 80’s  
Bunnyrabbit: Aw come on, nothing even happened in the 80’s!  
The Hips [irritably]: Well too bad, we’re doing it!  
The Jane: I like the 80’s!  
TH: Well thank you—  
The Jane: But cowboys and dinosaurs are definitely cooler.  
Bunnyrabbit: Yeah, can we m-metaphorically time travel utilising the p-p-power of music and go fight dinosaurs on jetpacks?  
The Hips [yelling]: NO.  
[music begins]


	9. Ju Ju Magic

For years, The Jon had avoided the question of “So what does Ju Ju Magic MEAN?” Even his own brothers hadn’t been able to get a solid answer, and when interrogated, Michael simply smiled knowingly. Then, one Christmas Morning, The Jon declared that he would reveal for everyone employed by/in the family of the Walters what the meaning of the seemingly silly song actually was.

He set up a table with a large maroon cloth on it, and lit some candles. He took off his top hat, and set it in between the candles. He then invited everyone in. They took seats around the table, except for Michael, who stood at the doorway, grinning.

The Jon waved his hands around spookily and said, “Ju Ju Magic is an incantation!”

Silence.

“A spell!”

“We know what an incantation is, Jon,” The Spine said, raising an eyebrow. He’d suspected that Ju Ju Magic was nonsense all along.

The Jon huffed, and pulled a sandwich out of the hat on the table. “No, you see, I am a magician!”

“That sandwich has been in your hat all day, Jon!” The Spine replied.

The Jon was taken aback. He hadn’t planned on hecklers. He ran his hands around the brim of his hat, thinking. Did he dare? Of course he did! He was the best Magician this side of Biscuit Town!

“Floatin’ down aimlessly…” Energy started to crackle between the flames of the candles, passing across the hat.

“Atop a swirlin’ tree. Blue ribbons in the apple sky…” The Jon’s hair stood on end, the electrical energy getting to the point where the humans began to feel mildy uncomfortable.

“One thing is on my mind!” A purple stretch of lighting snapped in between the candles, the audience gasped. The purple light pulsed from inside the hat.

“Runnin’ in circle dream…nothin’ is as it seems…” The light got stronger, and The Jon’s eyes glowed brighter than anyone had yet seen them. The fire on the candles got taller and taller, casting grotesque shadows.

“Seesaw on the jungle gym.” The Jon paused, and looked at the audience. “Hey man, are you listenin’?” Different colours danced out of the hat, and flung themselves across the room. Some circled on the ceiling, others pranced about the walls, a few more zigged and zagged across the floor, making the audience pick up their feet for fear of being brushed against.

“Ju Ju Magic, Ju Ju Magic, Ju Ju Magic,” The Jon chanted. The lights grew bigger, and froze where they stood, pooling like liquid on whatever service they now resided on.

The Spine knew that this was the part of the song that he had written, next. Where he accused The Jon of being crazy. Noting the light and shadows on The Jon’s face, and the bright blues piercing through all of it, The Spine didn’t really feel the urge to call Jon crazy at that time.

“Livin’ moko jumbie!” The Jon screamed, and the lights moved again, all zooming towards The Jon. “Across a whirlin’ sea,” he murmured to the lights, and they stalled before they hit him.

Out of the hat crawled a huge, prehistoric looking crab. It clacked its claws and eyed the audience hungrily.

“Red rubble in the golden hill…” The crab lunged after the lights, somehow grabbing them with its claws and stuffing them through its mandibles. The crab did this uninturrupted until it went after the original purple light that was sitting, complacent, under the table.

“Hey now, have you had your fill?” The crab disappeared.

Michael chimed in from across the room, where he was still casually leaning against the doorway. “Dancing comes naturally to those who let it be!”

The Jon looked up, and grinned, steam escaping from between his teeth. The steam became tinted with the colours that flickered from the candle-light, and it looked almost like he breathed fire.

“Jingle jangle and a just give in!” he called at to Michael.

Everything stopped—the lights went to normal, the purple disappeared, and Jon’s face looked perfectly innocent.

“Hey man, are—are—are you listenin’?” Rabbit finished for him.

The Jon spread his hands wide and beamed. “I told you I was a magician!”

“Cheap tricks, I’m sure,” The Spine grumbled crossing his arms.


	10. Robo Snuggles

The day always comes to an end. Theoretically, robots shouldn’t get tired, simply get to the point where they run down. But when a ‘bot’s steam runs low, boy does he feel it. The Spine stifled a yawn, regretting that steam should get wasted to the air so easily, but felt another one coming on. He sat on the floor in Walter Manor, keeping at eye on The Jon, who was drawing on the walls in crayon.

Rabbit toppled sideways into The Spine, causing a loss in concentration.

“You getting sleepy, Rabbit?” The Spine teased gently.

“N-n-n-no,” Rabbit said, resting his cheek on The Spine’s shoulder and shutting his eyes. Before long, Rabbit had powered down. The Spine smiled to himself, and relaxed, deciding that whatever mayhem The Jon might cause could wait until morning to be dealt with.

The Spine closed his eyes, resting his face on the top of his brother-bots head, and was startled to consciousness when he felt The Jon climbing onto their laps. He cozied up, throwing the majority of his torso over Rabbit’s knees, and pulled up a cushion from a nearby couch.

The Spine smiled, and looked at his dozing brothers. They were idling, and would soon shut down for the night. He closed his green eyes, and dreamt of ice cream.


	11. Becile Bots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This is my interpretation of the Becile Bots, not that of the creator. She doesn't like them portrayed as violent, and I guess my head canon is a little esoteric. But hey, I like my bad guys to be /bad/

The Spine’s head was tied in a bundle on the ceiling, the makeshift tail of his spine dangling below him, mere inches from the rest of his body. Rabbit was welded against a pillar, his torso unclad. His hat and goggles were gone, the goggles smashed into bits of glass and twists of wire on the floor, not far from where The Jon was chained in a tank of water, hair floating about his head.

Everything was in tableu. Nothing moved except for the gentle drift of Jon’s hair. Rabbit began to stir, tossing his head and chattering his teeth. He looked up at The Spine, dangling and unconscious, and tried to pull away from the pole. Finding himself physically attatched to the metal column, he selected a curse under his breath: “Golly.”

The Spine had been awake for about five minutes now, and just then set to twitching his tailbone, looking at his body. His body was unbound, and if he could just connect with it, he could free his brothers.

A door creaked open, letting light into the wide dark room, and slammed closed. Three bots entered to the tune of maniacal laughter, and The Spine and Rabbit froze. The clacking of shoes accompanied the laughter, and entered the pool of light in which the three Walter Bots were held.

“Eeyyy, look who’s up,” Hare said, joining in The Jack’s cackle for a moment. The Skull allowed himself a tight-lipped smile.

“Was that a pun?” The Spine growled from above.

“That was a PUN,” Rabbit confirmed.

“Shut yer TRAP,” Hare snapped, and the room was silent but for muffled giggling coming from The Jack’s direction.

The Jack stalked over in the direction of The Jon, who was still unconscious. He giggled, and butted his head against the glass walls of the aquarium. He bashed his face into it repeatedly, his hands being bound, until the glass cracked and water poured out.

“Watch it!” Hare yelled, noticing his wet shoes.

The Jon opened his eyes, the blues shining out in the musky darkness. He opened his mouth and water poured out, and electricity buzzed at his ears. He closed his mouth again and looked around, panicked.

“What happened, Rabbit?” Jon asked, more water dribbling down his soaked chest.

“They ambushed us, they t-t-took an unfair advantage…” Rabbit said through his teeth.

“We beat you, is what he means,” Hare said, blowing smoke in his counter-part’s face. “Let’s let ‘em have it, boys!”

The Skull grabbed The Spine’s tailbone, and started whipping him around in circles, before sending him into a wall. Hare began punching Rabbit’s stationary body, making a series of small dents around where his kidneys would be, should he have organs. The dents got bigger and more plentiful as the minutes passed, and Rabbit wasn’t able to stay focused off the pain.

The Jack had stayed this whole time, staring at The Jon, who was glitching terribly. His body was jerking against the chains, an affect of the water getting into the inner electrical workings of The Jon’s chassis. The Jack was mesmorised by these motions, watching The Jon’s hair flick water droplets everywhere. The Jack took a step forward. And another. And then he was running towards The Jon, his teeth clacking.


	12. Robots as Humans AU

Jon Sprague sat in a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, writing on his lap top lazily. He was composing poetry about being an unfeeling robot, and how that would be preferrable to all these feelings. His green beanie nearly slid off of his head, it was so far to the back, and he smirked to himself as he adjusted it, and thumbed his thick, fake, glasses closer to his eyes. He was wearing a scarf, even though it was pleasant outside.

Bunny Bennett came in, wearing a black fringe skirt and some converse, with a dark belly shirt, with white polka dots. She also had ostentatiously large fake glasses and a beanie.

“Hey Jon,” she said, talking to him because it was ironic.

David Bennett sat in the corner, weeping uncontrollably. His pink skinny-jeans and striped tank top didn’t suit him, and he couldn’t understand why his hair was so long.

Michael Reed started strumming on his acoustic guitar, and the girls in the room eyed him. His purple cardigan matched his flip flops, and he frowned because he was happy.

David cried out from his corner, “WHY ARE WE HIPSTERS?!” in a rage, nearly howling his frustration was so great.

Everyone in the room scoffed and ignored him. Some people just couldn’t grasp irony.


	13. "Feels"

-Some Years in the Future-

Rain poured down, mashing the once-dry mound of dirt into a puddle of mud. All the other guests had left, continuing the service inside, it was just the three faithful automatons now, standing by the fresh mound. The Jon and Rabbit sat on either side of the rectangle of dirt, and The Spine stood at the foot of it.

The stone opposite The Spine read, “Michael Philip Reed: Life’s Too Short so Spread the Love.” Along with a birth and a death date. Nearby were stones that bore the names of Sam Luke and Steve Negrete. In a mausoleum on the hill there had been an addition to the Walter vault.

“They’re all gone now, The Spine,” Rabbit said softly. He was looking at Michael’s epitaph solemnly.

“Yes, I suppose they are,” The Spine replied, barely audible through the sound of the rain. It was fitting, he supposed, that it should be raining for the funeral of his last human friend.

“We’ll get new humans now, won’t we?” Rabbit asked.

“It’s a lie,” The Jon said, breaking into the conversation.

“We al-al-always get new humans, Jon,” Rabbit countered.

“Not that. Life’s Too Short. That’s a lie. Life is long and awful and everyone dies,” The Jon said. “Michael’s a LIAR!”

The Spine crouched beside his friend. “Life is long for us, buddy. It’s short for them. They have to live so briefly that they’re willing to sacrifice their lives for us, because they love us. It’s part of being human, Jon, you know that,” he explained.

“But we love,” said Rabbit. His eyes, blue and green, turned to Michael’s headstone. “Why do we love?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Because we were built for love,” The Spine explained.

“I don’t WANT to love anymore!” The Jon said, lashing out. “I want to be cold like…like this…” Jon rested his head on the headstone, indicating it. He stroked the face of it, tracing the words that had been carved into it.

“You don’t mean that, Jon,” The Spine said.

“I miss Michael,” The Jon replied.

“I miss Steve,” Rabbit said, working his way up to a wail. “I miss Sam, and I miss all of our humans and that one dog and…and…” Steam escaped his lips, fogging the area around the graves.

The Spine managed to quiet both of them down, and they sat there in silence, in the mud, looking at the epitaph of their friend. People came out of the church nearby; the service was done.

“Why do they all have to die so fast?” The Spine muttered under his breath, angrily. He couldn’t stand this. Maybe this time he would keep his promise of ‘No More Meddling With Humans.’ But probably not.

After all, they were built for love.


	14. 404 Error

“Pass the peanut butter,” The Jon said, gesturing at Rabbit, who was closest to the picnic basket.

“You don’t put peanut butter on a tuna sandwich,” Rabbit argued.

“None of us actually eat,” The Spine countered.

“I eat!” Michael chipped in, taking a bite out of an apple.

“Then why’d we pack peanut butter?” Jon asked, puzzled.

“We didn’t,” Sam interjected, looking down from his remote-control airplane that was whizzing around their heads.

The Jon considered this fact, and looked down at the two slices of bread in his hands. He wondered what they would look like on an airplane, and decided to conduct a scientific experiment to find out. The little airplane that Sam was directing went spiraling out of control after making contact with bread. (Bread is an airplane’s one true weakness, after all)

The airplane plummetted at high velocity, directly at The Jon’s head. It crushed Jon’s hat, and made a loud BANG as it collided with his metal head. His eyes dimmed and brightened and dimmed again, and he fell over backwards.

“Did we break The Jon?” Rabbit asked, concerned.

Michael nudged his friend’s cold torso with his foot, hoping for a response. He got one.

The Jon sat up, and took off his crumpled hat. “Ah, I seem to be in disarray,” he said. The luminescence in his eyes flickered steadily, between dim, bright, and off completely. A buzzing noise escaped The Jon’s lips when he wasn’t speaking, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I think we broke The Jon,” Rabbit whispered loudly to The Spine.

“Au contraire!” The Jon said, laughing easily. “I have never felt better!” he stood up, and stretched, looking around calmly.

It was the calmness that startled Michael the most. He stood up, and started to examine the robot as he occasionally did if one of them glitched. However, as soon as he made contact with The Jon’s metal, The Jon smacked Michael’s hand away. The Jon’s eyes flickered slower, and he made eye contact with his friend, who was now sporting a bright red mark across his hand.

The Jon grabbed at Michael’s wrist, and turned his arm until there were crunching sounds.

“Jon! Stop!” The Spine said, lurching to his feet as Michael cried out in pain.

The Jon did not heed the cries or commands of his friends, simply continuing to twist Michael’s arm. There was a loud snap as the arm broke, and The Jon released Michael. The Jon laughed easily, as he had done when Rabbit accused him of being broken. He turned to look at the astonished faces of Sam, Rabbit, and The Spine.

“Jon, buddy, I think we need to get home,” The Spine said carefully, moving towards his brother-bot.

The Jon moved quicker than they expected, putting a firm boot to The Spine’s jaw with a clang. The Spine toppled to the ground, and was glad he was not human. That kind of force could have broken someone’s neck. He stood up, and got ready to fight so that they could fix Jon. Steve was back with P. Walter, working on some kind of explosive. If Michael couldn’t fix Jon, then they could.

The Spine made to tackle The Jon, but The Jon moved out of the way, and The Spine ended up running into nothing. The Jon put a sharp elbow in The Spine’s back as The Spine stumbled, and The Spine was sent to the ground. The Jon turned and began to rip out The Spine’s head and spine, failing to regard which connections were in place. The Spine, still half plugged in, shut down, stuttering a threat to make The Jon stop.

Sam and Rabbit remained. Rabbit was shaking where he stood.

“Y-y-y-you don’t sca-scare me,” Rabbit said boldy.

The flickering in The Jon’s eyes stopped, leaving his eyes dark and expressionless.

“Yes you are, Rabbit. I’m going to kill Sam, and I’m going to leave you here, as you are. What’s the point in killing a broken robot?” There was that calm laugh again.

“I’m n-n-not broken,” Rabbit murmured quietly, standing in front of Sam.

The Jon tilted his head to the side and grinned, oil dripping from between his teeth.


End file.
